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Whats in a name

“After all, from my very childhood, I had understood that the artistic experience, at its highest, was actually a natural analogue of mystical experience. It produced a kind of intuitive perception of reality…I had always understood that art was contemplation, and that it involved the action of the highest faculties of [wo]man.”
The Visions of Thomas Merton


A friend shared the above quote with me.
My heart couldn’t agree more. And fitting in the now.

(originally written, 2020)

Friday was my Rituxan treatment, it went really well. Long day, happy day.

December was my Neuro checkup; to my surprise, my neurologist had something to talk about. He consults with other neuro specialists about my case. All come back with the same answer, Neuromyelitis Optica.

2015, when my first severe attack happened leaving me initially paralyzed, doctors then initially thought NMO. It is an autoimmune disease primarily attacking the optic nerves, and spinal cord. People with NMO often develop other autoimmune diseases, Lupus being one of the most common. Which fits what I experience.

Many with NMO stabilize pretty well on Rituxan, and like me, still have attacks. A few months ago, the first official treatment for NMO was approved by the FDA. This is huge! The early reports are showing very hopeful with patients not mostly stabilizing but actually not having further attacks. Meaning actual stability, actual remission. Like Rituxan it does not heal the damage already done, but prevention of further progression is beyond priceless.

It does not come without potential risk. Rituxan is a B cell deplete-r, this new treatment is also an immuno-suppressant, but it works differently.
The preponderance of evidence says NMO, and my neurologist feels it would be good to pursue this new treatment.

It’s a nasty disease. The very positive side are all the advancements in the past few years. In Idaho, we were given a Hope for the best, prepare for the worst scenario. Mortality used to be high; today, it has dropped significantly.

A future without the thought of the potential of being on a ventilator is, well, I have no words. I wrote about it in an article I wrote in CrossinGenres, Organ Donation and other difficult conversations.

After much discussion, we decided to increase Rituxan infusions first, before moving on to trying Solaris.

For now, I immerse myself in the Creative as I build energy as she reflects back and speaks. and, settle into this name, and the surprising mix of emotions even when this name has been around me since the beginning of this journey. Now official: NMO, Neuromyelitis Optica.

Today, 2023, there are 3 FDA approved treatment for NMOSD (Neuromyelitis Optica Spectrum Disorder, because it is an umbrella. However they are only approved for AQP4 antibody positive patients. I am negative. At this point I have received so much treatment it could be a “masked” negative. And, about a third of people test negative who are actually positive anyway. So there is that.

What this means is my neurologist would like me to have access to these treatments but I don’t. Since I recently had a flare and needed steroids, we are going to see about moving to Rituxan every three months instead of 4. Wish me luck at having access to this since every 3 months has not really been studied as far as we know. Once again my neurologist is consulting with another specialist. I appreciate so much my medical team here in NC.

Paint much love, always,
Connie Karleta Sales
a.k.a. This Crooked Little Flower

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oh I have had some bad nights. My bladder decided to kick into overdrive. the spasms are so very painful I couldn’t stand it. my hubby hugged me, held me part of the time, gave me extra medicine and after it got into my system it did help. I am thankful. I will be honest, if it hadn’t I probably would have said, ER it is. It was that bad.

Why am I writing about this? It is something I deal with on a regular basis. And it is not something that necessarily gets talked about in the open. I learned and realized that within NMO communities, things like swallowing and speech being effected don’t get talked about enough. So, I figure I will talk about these things. Why I have started a “Medical Monday” series on YouTube. Once a month I will post a video discussing my experiences with varying topics related to NMO and living with a severe illness in general. I started the series with this:

mid to late June I am telling my journey to diagnosis. If you are interested stay tuned. You can always subscribe to my YouTube channel and click the notifications so you will know when a video comes out.

The spasms continue. I had to close my studio Sunday of the Studio Tour. My body was exhausted and miserable. I again took extra medication and that did not help enough to allow me to stay at the studio. My doctors called in other medications and as it turns out I have an infection. Infection often cause nerve pain and spasms to be worse. It is exhausting. Hopefully soon I will be feeling better after the right antibiotics kick in.

I am still trying to recover from my recent NMO flare. My support system and myself (myself begrudgingly) know I need to rest. We brought stuff home from the studio so I can do stuff from bed.

It is frustrating, and scary for me. I do not like being in bed. I do not like feeling my body deteriorate. I do not like being sick, and being able to feel and see the effect it has not on just me but my family and my friends. It effects everything in life.

pictured is a detail from “Wading Water’s Edge”. It is both chaotic and melodic, just like water’s edges as you wade in. where ripples turn into eternity, and murky shadows hide. Coolness or warmth hugs my body the further you wade.

I imagine these things in the shower. It is where I get to wade in. I have not been in a pool, or a lake, or a body of water in years now. There are accessible places, I just have not been.

I am happy to be able to have a shower. I spent a long time with bed baths or “spit” baths. It is a gift to feel water running down your body. Feeling your hair and body really clean. I love it. It feels good. Moments of peace.

I watch the edge of the water meet my skin and roll down and off. Over and over drops fall and mini waterfalls cascade. Repetitive repeat becomes mantra for peace, a meditation of letting go and breathing. in and out. finding rest.

I hope you find the peace and rest you might need this day. I will do the same.

paint much love, always,
Connie Karleta Sales
a.k.a. This Crooked Little Flower

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Monumental Intimacy

Paradise could be
My deliberate seeker
Tiny spirit bright


Tiny, tiny painting
Western sky
moment caught seeking

We do what we can.  We do our part.  We are willing.  We are enough.

Parker Palmer writes, in his book, Let Your Life Speak: Listening for the Voice of Vocation, about burnout.  I gave to little he would say; Why? because I simply did not have it to give in the first place.

When I read this for the first time, I immediately felt the connected, “Yes!  I know this!” You said what I have not the words.  I drink of this.  Now what?  Just because I drank that Kool-Aide does not mean anything, truly. It is more of a question than an answer?  A connection rather than a confirmation.

Where do I turn but into that deliberate seeker; tiny spirit; bright.  I seek it where I meet sky; where I meet mountain; where I meet you.

I am still.  Seeking simply is; a journey onward walking.  No trying; no attempts; I am as you are.  and We; we, are enough.  We are tiny spirits bright!  Shining with such brilliance; need no polishing.  We dull ourselves in the trying.

Up there, in that tiny moment, life; a gift of exquisite beauty.

paint much love, always,
Connie Karleta Sales
a.k.a. This Crooked Little Flower

*Monumental Intimacy, 1/2″ x 1″, charcoal, graphite, ink, paper, ©CKS, 2013

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Stand where you are

for you have much richness
deep in the you; you are
even if it means lying down.

in rest there is life;
cool comfort,
joy in our stillness-es.

in our suffering
in our loss-es,
we reach into our each.

in our worn-ess,
in our despondency-s,
we are rich in offering

in our arms,
allowing the intimacy
of others into our lives;

we are rich.
you; are rich
in the all of y/ou/r illness-es,

we reach into the each;
and have much to offer;
humanity’s necessity;

stand where you are
even in lying down.


(originally published 2020)

Definitely winding down; I am less than two weeks away from my next Rituxan Infusion. This time, I am looking forward to it. I wish it were yesterday.

This past six months has been the best six months in two years. Overall, I might be fatigued and worn down, but I am still able to get up in my chair, still able to do things that I otherwise would not be able to do for myself before.

I also am present. I am not trying to do more, not trying to push through, not trying to be better than I am. I am right where I am and that is where I shall remain for today.

I am using a new eye gaze set up, and that makes all the difference in my life. You have no idea how much energy conservation it provides me.

Drawing more by holding the pen in my mouth. lol, that is somethin’; try it sometime. It is fun, and a lot harder than it looks. Actually, I am not very good at it. My face muscles have a hard time keeping it in my mouth. But, it gives my arms a bit of rest. And, its fun, and makes me giggle.

My pen held in place by Velcro, it can’t fall out of my hand, so, a floppier wrist is not much of a bother, its my triceps, my major movement that gets slowed, heavy, and hard.

And, so I stand where I am, lying down, binge watching much tvany suggestions? – resting in the melody of this life, and enjoying it. At this point I would normally be frustrated and developing more depression and sadness.

And I am not. I am not depressed. I am not sad.

I am joyful. I am happy. I am excited about things to come. Things that are happening; new and continuing. I am happy in feeling more present in the lives of my loved ones.

Where are you standing today? What does your present look like? Mine looks like this, and I imagine it is wrapped in a lovely pink bow!

You are enough, and have so much to give to a world that needs the you, you are. My hope is to be a part of changing the conversation around being sick, and how we treat people who are ill, suffering, and dying. How we treat people.

Each time we act with pity, we take away a person’s power. Each time we dismiss someone because of their suffering-s, we take away their power.

Each time we act in amazement at an accomplishment; despite of; we take power. Each time we discount illness and suffering because of amazement in accomplishment; We set apart rather than bring together.

Too often we treat, and act as though a person must overcome, defy, get well, in order to have worth. We take power away.

All these are wonderful things. overcoming, defying, all this is not in and of itself a problem. But why isn’t living with and alongside of provided for, cared for and caressed?

In the heart of it, that is what happens in order to get to remission of an illness, the easement of a grief. and then there is living when remission and easement is not possible.

I am not not trying to live, I am not trying to be well. I am Connie, living with a rare disease, a future unknown, but its unknown for everyone, because we are not there yet.

I love this life, standing where I am.

please share today, and invite others.

I wrote this in 2020 but I still identify today.

paint much love, always,
Connie Karleta Sales
a.k.a. This Crooked Little Flower

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She Walks, Dreaming in Love

These drawings, such an important part of dreaming forward.
Series, She Walks, Dreaming in Love

Often, when I dream, I am walking; dancing in the meadows in the fields, with sunflowers and lilies, most often. Recently, when I dream, I have full use of my hands and am a carpenter.

These dreams are so vivid, I sometimes wake up disoriented as my actual reality of limited use of my arms and hands, and no use of my legs abruptly makes itself aware.

Walking dreams, and dancing, began since i first became severely ill in 2015, and was initialized paralyzed with this disease. I learned this is very normal within paralysis community.

At first, I would cry, be confused, frustrated. Deep sighs of despair as I lie there in bed. I found it backwards. Dreaming was real, and waking was the nightmare.

To be honest, it was the measure of the stress and unknown at the time. Our world, mine and my family’s world was shaken. I was alive, and making progress in physical and occupational therapy. I was hopeful, and I needed cheerleaders to help me in this.

There were so many unknowns. How do you digest hearing “if your alive in 5 years, most likely will be blind and wheelchair bound.” then move into “well, we don’t know, and we don’t have the ability to help you.”

Feeling very alone in moments like these:

2016, Idaho. I am struggling in Occupational therapy. My therapist does a few evaluation tests on my arms/hands and finds my strength and grip strength has decreased.

She sends her recommendations to my primary care physician, who then sends it on to the neurologist. I am now sitting in the neurologists office with my sister in law at my side.

He says “The rehabilitation hospital does that.”

I say, apparently not because my occupational therapist sent it to my primary who sent it to you because she said you do it.”

“No, they do it.”

The OT’s recommendations and concerns went into what I call the Bermuda triangle of passing the buck into never-land of no action.

Now, look at this:

2017, North Carolina. I have been in physical therapy for a little while, mainly learning wheelchair skills, and learning to use the electronic stimulation device on the various muscle groups to help them fire and in turn help with muscle tone etc. Then things turned from these skills to re-evaluations, and then trunk control, and then the day came when my PT compassionately said that he ethically could not continue because PT was doing more harm than good. My body was clearly struggling and he was calling my doctor.

He scheduled me for two more visits; one to finish the final muscle groups with the EMS machine, and the second to teach my family how to help assist me in transferring from place to place.

That first last appointment came. My husband was with me, and I was not well. My PT just immediately taught my husband full assist transferring and even practiced it with our car. and told my husband, I am immediately calling her doctors.

Yes, and that is how 2017 began as I know it today. Only this time, doctors, nurses, home health, speech therapist, PT, OT, medical social worker; they all came on board,

and no one shrugged their shoulders and left us alone.

My family and I were hugged, were cared for, were taught, were provided for. We were provided with the physical, mental, and emotional tools to grieve, to be, to learn, to practice, and to become.

Now, I am a fighter, I am a glass-full kind of girl. Even in Idaho I found those moments. My PT’s and OT’s were amazing. I love them today, and hope I get to talk to them again. It is with that help, that love.

If you want to hear about one of those moments you can listen here:

So, what does it mean when I say, She Walks, dreaming in love?

Today, I enjoy those walking dreams. They are magical. I wake up in a smile and not tears. My limitations are everything and nothing simultaneously.

It is not easy. Don’t get me wrong – There is nothing about this that is easy. For my family, and for myself.

Life does continue. It does ease as we move through and adapt. Little by little equipment and routine happen.

We get to practice patience, and delayed gratification.

We get to greet the sun, and say hello to the moon. We get to walkabout in love, no matter what it looks like. My wheelchair walks for me, my computer talks for me. How cool is that.

and I am never out of reality, I am always dancing in the fields with the sunflowers and lilies; with dandelions wisping through my hair, caressing my cheeks.

These are what these drawings are. They are the dance of love, the dance of choice, and power. They are the dance of grief, the dance of the unknown.

They are my dreams. They are the simultaneous illness and life of my body.

They are the moments of never being alone.

They are the dance of dignity; created with all the limitations of this body. braces and Velcro, pillows and positioning belts, whatever it takes to dance.

She Walks, Dreaming in Love VI, 30 x 22 inch, paper, ink, graphite on paper, 2018
She Walks, Dreaming in Love II, 30 x 22 inch, paper, ink, graphite on paper, 2018
She Walks, Dreaming in Love I, 30 x 22 inch, paper, ink, graphite on paper, 2018

available through dk Gallery

Paint much love, always,
Connie Karleta Sales
a.k.a. This Crooked Little Flower

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and she danced

into such winds
she laughed;
learning to play;
feeling her joy.


paint much love, always,
Connie Karleta Sales
a.k.a. This Crooked Little Flower

*sold, private collector, 2020 – thank you!

*painted with Surface/Surface Pen with Sketchable and Rebelle 3

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Succor Creek

Desert Cliffs
with Sun-drenched festivals
of light cascading.


Spring View
Cliffs at Succor Creek

My husband introduced me to Succor Creek and Leslie’s Gulch, Oregon.  It is the High Desert landscape located not far from the Idaho border.

If you time it just right, you will see the desert flowers blooming in the spring before the sandy dry colors of yellow overwhelm the landscape.

Here, the flowers are not yet in bloom.  The desert she is preparing.  It was a lovely brisk day with green sprinkled within the dance of sun and cliffs.

paint much love, always,
Connie Karleta Sales
a.k.a. This Crooked Little Flower

*Succor Creek, Oregon, 1 1/4″ x 3 1/8″, ink, pastel, graphite, paper, ©CKS

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she breaks apart in washes
under the weight of now
whispering to the songs of taize
leaning-velvet firmly in life’s vows.

Part of the season of today is being co-pilot in caretaking my parents. I find it fascinating what surfaces in this process. Emotions long thought gone, memories believed gone in the winds of time.

It is both exhausting and a gift simultaneously.

and life does not stop. I certainly cannot put the illness I live with on hold and ask it to come back another day. lol That never happens anyway; wouldn’t that be nice. Ask to be more convenient please?

Not gonna happen. and here I am today, in a flare of my illness. It is not a bad one. Not like in the past before I was on a preventative medicine where I would be hospitalized and things were very scary.

I went to outpatient infusion to receive 5 days of IV Steroids. and am now on an oral taper to step down your body from the steroids.

And how does this all relate? How does it relate to the topic of forgiveness?

With my family, I am meeting some feelings, some not ever felt, and with my copilot, I am learning I was never alone. I am sorry we both went through what we went through. The openness with which I can speak with frankness is comforting.

And within certain experiences now, I feel compassion, I feel thankful for this season I have with my parents. It is bringing me to another level of forgiveness, a rich and reality based forgiveness. I do not really have the words I am searching for but maybe you can get the idea.

The other end is related to self forgiveness and compassion. I often feel guilty for my illness. Not because anyone is trying to impose that, quite the opposite. I have such a supportive community and family and friends.

No, I do it to myself. and when my illness decides to flare, I feel guilty, and I worry about others worrying, and I begin to mentally go down some rabbit hole of “make sure this” or “make sure that” so nobody worries or is scared or now has extra hardship. Better get better and fast. You know, the absolute crap in the head kind of trash talk about oneself.

So, I step back. my meditation has been reflective in this idea of self forgiveness. My illness is a reality and it is ever present. I do not need to feel guilty. I do not need to trash talk myself inside.

I can ask and accept the extra help I need. It is hard sometimes. Part of that is just the loss of independence in the traditional since, but with that extra help, I am able to do things, to get out of bed, to get ready, to go to the park, to run errands, to go to the studio all kinds of things.

Yes, it is loss, and that is a reality, and it is not endless, and the richness of accepting help. The intimacy I get to know and grow in deep friendship, I would not have such this experience but for needing this extra help.

I meditate with what independence really means, and does it matter. Is it really just part of the illusion of wanting to do things perfectly so I can prove worth to be here and take up space.

Yesterday was quite the day. It was my birthday, and I don’t usually celebrate my birthdays much; its a long story for another time maybe.

I had a morning to lunchtime people who came over. I am working on recovering from this flare of the NMO. but very special people came. brought decorations and hung them and we wore silly glasses and party time headbands. They brought me a coffee, and flowers and presents! For those who know me it is difficult for me to do this. and to accept things like this.

It was so much fun! by the lunchtime ish I was spent. and people left and I slept and rested the rest of the day, also getting to spend some time on the phone with people I love.

It was a special day. I had so much fun laughing with these friends, my family. Bright, colorful, and smiley. the deep smile, soul-hugging kind of smile.

And I hang on to that, because I am taught to let go. to enjoy the moment as it is. And isn’t that at least part of self forgiveness, forgiveness? to be present in the moment as it is, without judgment; just being; resting in such being?

I will keep meditating. There is no one answer. And the mind, body, and soul, can answer for themselves.

paint, much love, always,
Connie Karleta Sales
a.k.a. This Crooked Little Flower

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Seeker of Light

Seeker of Light
Come to the star-gazing
Come the night skies
Come to me darling
Where light never lies.

My heart resting heavy
Panting its beats
Fervor’s intensity
Light oh so sweet.

Not feeling my best lately, and I am okay. My Rituxan infusion is not too far off and I have all my appointments coming up, so I will discuss it with my medical team.

Pain gets to me. For those that know chronic pain, you know, you know. It sucks. There are no other words.

I am continually working with solutions and helping myself each day. One moment at a time. Coping and forgetting. There is something to be said in the act as if mode. It can help, not 24/7, but it can help.

I can see in my work, the longing and striving. The reaching and seeking.

This painting started out digital and then moved into traditional media. She started out on larger size paper and wanted to be a bit smaller; feeling more intimate and comforted by the boundaries of the paper.

What if I start with light. This is a question I have been asking. She holds her hands to her chest and rests there. comforting herself as she baths in night. A time when life has a blanket of silence, and she can wander into the void and feel wrapped and swaddled.

I have not been up to a lot of writing. It takes a lot of energy. but the sun is shining outside today, and I wanted to place my energy somewhere other than nothingness.

So, I thought I would share her, The Seeker of the Light. as she made me smile today and I hope she makes you smile too.

paint much love, always,
Connie Karleta Sales
a.k.a. This Crooked Little Flower

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Difficulty with a side of ice cream part 2

Last time I spoke a little about this shift in perspective. This week I want to talk about how i see it relating to the shift my work is taking by pure physical form. frenzy of line/mark-making becoming slower, thicker brushstrokes. and feeling where I am in the middle of the shift; flipping the script.

Before my illness took over, I worked very intensely on the paper. scraping, erasing, sanding. often wearing holes in the paper. Sewing, repairing, or letting the holes be. It was very physically demanding.

I don’t have that kind of stamina or strength or mobility in my limbs. I needed to adapt.

I discovered digital media and eye gaze painting. Amazing technology and something very cool to train your eyes as your brush/pen.

picking up a brush in my mouth and painting. This is a process. I am still learning and practicing. Attaching the brush to my wrist is not ideal as my arms don’t have strength for this.

Physically I am actually forced to slow down my mark-making. My marks are thicker. larger areas of color. a painterly aspect I never considered myself to have.

Fascinates me that somehow thicker impasto is where I am drawn. feels as tactile as the sanding and scraping I used to do. But not so frenzied. It is a shift in intensity.

Somewhere it seems lighter. It feels in sync with this shift in perspective to begin with the light.

I have no idea where it will take me, but that is where I always trust my work. It always seems to foreshadow where life goes or leads me. Teaches me more and more about trust and faith.

Do you have seasons and shift in your life? How do you move through them?

paint much love, always,
Connie Karleta Sales
a.k.a. This Crooked Little Flower

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Difficulty with a side of ice cream part 1

Life in heavy fogs;
when walking turns to ice cream,
laughter becomes light.

Sometimes we just have to laugh. Levity and smiles really is good medicine. Sometimes I dream it. I imagine it. Maybe it isn’t physically happening in the moment. Maybe I am actually crying. and that is okay. There is nothing wrong with darkness.

It is not pleasant. It is not OK. It is dark. Difficulty is just that; difficult. Sometimes avoidable and sometimes not.

For a while now I have been dealing with unrelenting physical pain. It sucks. no other words to describe it. Currently I am tired of rearranging medications. My neurologist is great. He had no problem keeping on tryin. He is very supportive and I feel lucky.

But I am tired, so my last appointment I said such. Medication is not the only way I work to manage pain. I use meditation, stretching, acupuncture/Chinese medicine and massage, a variety of tools in my toolbelt. I even found on YouTube an interesting exercise from an art therapist where you have a conversation with pain. I liked it.

So, here I am and of course, one big way I deal with life is through my work. writing and painting. and they are not actually separate to me, they are one in the same.

I struggle to describe it accurately but I really enjoyed participating in the interview and I think it does a pretty good job at talking about how I feel about words and art, so I will link it here: part 1 and 2 if you wish to read them

Paper Cuts and Paper Heals: Connie Karleta Sales
Paper Cuts and Paper Heals: Connie Karleta Sales

Anyway, recently I decided to sit with a phrase from John out of the Bible:

“The Light Shines in the Darkness, and the darkness did not overcome it.” John 1:5

I believe that the majority of my art has come from the perspective of darkness the light overcame, so i flipped the script and came from the perspective of light the darkness did not overcome.

Light and darkness are both still there. perspective is the change.

I ended up with 2 paintings:

The Color of God Within, and
The Light Darkness cannot Consume

They make me smile. The shores are rocky and they make me smile; like eating ice cream. levity breaking into joy.

This is getting long, so I will stop here for now, and continue next week with part 2 talking about how i see it relating to the shift my work is taking by pure physical form. frenzy of line/mark-making becoming slower, thicker brushstrokes. and feeling where I am in the middle of the shift; flipping the script.

until then,
paint much love, always,
Connie Karleta Sales
a.k.a. This Crooked Little Flower

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Thoughts and Desires

I have been reflecting, reading, and writing. Like life does, I had slowly let go of things I did on a regular basis for my own well being.

There is no why or excuses, it just is. I choose not to berate myself or batter myself, and instead, gather, and begin; again. and ebb in the flow of it all. it happens.

I do get frustrated at myself. It is a life long struggle to get things done. I do not like admitting to ADD but it fits. I get overwhelmed and lost in it all.

I also am a pro at self-sabotage. The very inner part of me still believing in those old messages of never being capable of anything, and that I am so broken I should just forget ever being productive.

A doctor, a psychiatrist spoke those words. Now he also said that disability insurance paid him far more than my employers insurance so why would I want to work anyways. Seriously? (side note – this doctor lost his license and went to prison).

As much as I believe in myself I also so easily fall into all the messages I spent much of my life believing. from childhood into adulthood. and I doubt my own ability to make decisions.

Little by little I change this. One decision at a time.

I am doubling down. Finding ways to help myself in accountability and responsibility. Leaning on the help I have and not trying to be so stubbornly independent.

I am making goals I am terrified to make. Looking at the steps I need to take to work toward them. What do I need to take care of myself.

What are the things I need to accept/re-accept. The things that make my life easier and healthier and yet sometimes just get sick of it.

Things like my feeding tube and liquid nutrition which really needs to run pretty much 24/7 for my body to be okay. Being attached to tubes all the time get old and frustrating, AND my life is healthier by allowing the tubes to be the extension of self they are.

I am allowing myself to explore where I want to be, where I want to fall into, be comforted by. Should I be surprised it brings a smile?

My blog, I choose to get back to where it used to be. A once a week, randomness of thoughts, feelings, through art and poetry.

My work is just that, the questions, the wonderings, the fears, the hopes, and joys of life as it is lived. polished or unpolished.

I am taking risks I have not dared to take. Wanting a newsletter but not understanding enough to risk sending one. Cost plays into it too. Recently I found I could connect my Square website to MailChimp and I can begin for free to explore this world and connect through email to you. I am excited now more than I am afraid and anxious. I hope you will enjoy them for those who wish to sign up or already have.

Thank you for hanging in and joining the journey. You are beautiful humans, and I love you.

Here is to 2023 and the adventures the year will bring.

paint much love, always,
Connie Karleta Sales
a.k.a. This Crooked Little Flower